It's still super-hot in New Orleans. My recovery remains real but stalled. As I said to one of my docs this week: No bleeding, no head whacking, still anemic. My much-needed IV iron transfusions don't start until July 10 but 2-4 of those are supposed…
It's still super-hot in New Orleans. My recovery remains real but stalled. As I said to one of my docs this week: No bleeding, no head whacking, still anemic. My much-needed IV iron transfusions don't start until July 10 but 2-4 of those are supposed to be the knockout blow against anemia. Being anemic during a New Orleans heat wave sucks the big one. Stay tuned.
Let's move from my extended illness to this week's theme song.
David Byrne wrote Puzzlin'Evidence for the 1986 Talking Heads album, True Stories. It also appears in Byrne's movie of the same title. I almost didn't pick the song because I'm not a fan of dropped gs, but I dig the song and the title isn't Puzzling Evidence. I'm puzzled that Byrne likes dropped gs but nobody's perfect.
We continue our evidentiary hearing with a song from Susan Tedeschi:
We begin our second act with a segment featuring two articles from the same publication with different takes on one of my all-time favorite movies. The publication is The Atlantic. The movie is Chinatown.
Chinatown Turns Fifty: Presumably, you've all seen Chinatown if not do so immediately. It has brilliant performances by Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway, and my birthday twin John Huston as well as a phenomenal script by Robert Towne. The story deals with the corruption and water theft that transformed Los Angeles into L.A. as in the Randy Newman song:
The first Atlantic piece is by political writer Ronald Brownstein who turns out to be a film buff. I identify with that. The article is called, The 1970s Movie That Explains 2020s America. I don't entirely agree with the premise but it's intriguing. Brownstein is right that Chinatown is as fresh and relevant in 2024 as it was in 1974.
The second Atlantic Chinatown piece is by Chris Stanton. He focuses on the water theft angle of Towne's script, The Lies That Los Angeles Was Built Upon. It's also well worth a read.
The Name Game: My family were old school when it came to names. My name fate was fixed: I was named for my paternal grandfather aka papou. I like my name so that's okay by me. My mom once told me that they wanted a boy so much after having two daughters that they never even selected a girl's name.
There's a swell piece in the WaPo by Daniel Wolfe about trends in baby names. If you wonder why so many kids of a certain age are named Jason, Wolfe has an explanation.
The last word of our second act goes to Shirley Ellis:
Sometimes the obvious choice is the best choice.
We begin our third act with our favorite stolen feature.
Separated At Birth Twitter Edition: We have another contribution from the father of the separated at birth movement. There's not really a movement but the word moves me. Anyway, Kurt Andersen pairs Kristi Noem with Michele Bachmann.
Separated At Birth, Upper Midwest Right-Wing Freak Edition
Speaking of freaky songs, here's one composed in 1929:
Your Weekly Oscar: This time, OP plays a piece composed by Bossa Nova master Tom Jobim.
Have I told you lately how much I love Oscar Peterson?
The Best Of Johnny: In this 1978 clip, zoo dude Jim Fowler brings a giant beetle for Johnny's perusal. I don't know about you, but I was disappointed it wasn't Ringo. Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Saturday GIF Horse: Are you ready for more Chinatown? You have no choice:
Have I told you lately how much I hate Charlton Heston?
The Junk Drawer: The Tory campaign continues to flounder as election day beckons. This cartoon by the Guardian's Ella Baron captures Rishi Sunak's pitiful political plight.
His theme song is about to come true. He'll lose his number next week. Here's a souped-up synth heavy 1984 cover by Tom Robinson:
Let's close down this virtual juke box with some more music.
Saturday Closer: It's a 1973 radio set from Tower Of Power on the station formerly known as Jive 95.
That's all for this week. Since it's the conclusion of Magritte-Talking Heads month, the last word goes to Rene and Georgia Magritte and their dog;
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